Plays By John Galsworthy
Chapter 340 : JOHNNY. You look a blackguard, and I believe you are.MR MARCH. [With perfunctory autho

JOHNNY. You look a blackguard, and I believe you are.

MR MARCH. [With perfunctory authority] I really can't have this sort of thing in my house. Johnny, go upstairs; and you two, please go away.

YOUNG M. [To JOHNNY] We know the sort of chap you are--takin' advantage of workin' girls.

JOHNNY. That's a foul lie. Come into the garden and I'll prove it on your carcase.

YOUNG M. All right!

FAITH. No; he'll hurt you. He's been in the war.

JOHNNY. [To the YOUNG MAN] You haven't, I'll bet.

YOUNG M. I didn't come here to be slanged.

JOHNNY. This poor girl is going to have a fair deal, and you're not going to give it her. I can see that with half an eye.

YOUNG M. You'll see it with no eyes when I've done with you.

JOHNNY. Come on, then.

He goes up to the windows.

MR MARCH. For G.o.d's sake, Johnny, stop this vulgar brawl!

FAITH. [Suddenly] I'm not a "poor girl" and I won't be called one.

I don't want any soft words. Why can't you let me be? [Pointing to JOHNNY] He talks wild. [JOHNNY clutches the edge of the writing-table]

Thinks he can "rescue" me. I don't want to be rescued. I--[All the feeling of years rises to the surface now that the barrier has broken]

--I want to be let alone. I've paid for everything I've done--a pound for every s.h.i.+lling's worth.

And all because of one minute when I was half crazy. [Flas.h.i.+ng round at MARY] Wait till you've had a baby you oughtn't to have had, and not a penny in your pocket! It's money--money--all money!

YOUNG M. Sst! That'll do!

FAITH. I'll have what I like now, not what you think's good for me.

MR MARCH. G.o.d knows we don't want to--

FAITH. You mean very well, Mr March, but you're no good.

MR MARCH. I knew it.

FAITH. You were very kind to me. But you don't see; n.o.body sees.

YOUNG M. There! That's enough! You're gettin' excited. You come away with me.

FAITH's look at him is like the look of a dog at her master.

JOHNNY. [From the background] I know you're a blackguard--I've seen your sort.

FAITH. [Firing up] Don't call him names! I won't have it. I'll go with whom I choose! [Her eyes suddenly fix themselves on the YOUNG MAN'S face] And I'm going with him!

COOK enters.

MR MARCH. What now, Cook?

COOK. A Mr Barnabas in the hall, sir. From the police.

Everybody starts. MRS MARCH drinks off her fifth little gla.s.s of brandy, then sits again.

MR MARCH. From the police?

He goes out, followed by COOK. A moment's suspense.

YOUNG M. Well, I can't wait any longer. I suppose we can go out the back way?

He draws FAITH towards the windows. But JOHNNY stands there, barring the way. JOHNNY. No, you don't.

FAITH. [Scared] Oh! Let me go--let him go!

JOHNNY. You may go. [He takes her arm to pull her to the window] He can't.

FAITH. [Freeing herself] No--no! Not if he doesn't.

JOHNNY has an evident moment of hesitation, and before it is over MR MARCH comes in again, followed by a man in a neat suit of plain clothes.

MR MARCH. I should like you to say that in front of her.

P. C. MAN. Your service, ma'am. Afraid I'm intruding here. Fact is, I've been waiting for a chance to speak to this young woman quietly.

It's rather public here, sir; but if you wish, of course, I'll mention it. [He waits for some word from some one; no one speaks, so he goes on almost apologetically] Well, now, you're in a good place here, and you ought to keep it. You don't want fresh trouble, I'm sure.

FAITH. [Scared] What do you want with me?

P. C. MAN. I don't want to frighten you; but we've had word pa.s.sed that you're a.s.sociating with the young man there. I observed him to-night again, waiting outside here and whistling.

YOUNG M. What's the matter with whistling?

P. C. MAN. [Eyeing him] I should keep quiet if I was you. As you know, sir [To MR MARCH] there's a law nowadays against soo-tenors.

MR MARCH. Soo--?

JOHNNY. I knew it.

P. C. MAN. [Deprecating] I don't want to use any plain English--with ladies present--

YOUNG M. I don't know you. What are you after? Do you dare--?

P. C. MAN. We cut the darin', 'tisn't necessary. We know all about you.